Life's so short says Melissa, and what we put ourselves through chasing our tails isn't worth it.
Life in the big city became just so much of a rat race I realised that even if I won, I'd still be a rat.
So I got out of all that bullshit and jellybeans, got away from all the superficial crap that pollutes your mind, body and soul and eight years ago came home to where my roots are.
To where my heart is. To my Whakapapa.
And when I wake in my little caravan in the morning and light the fire or take a minute wandering down to my own most wonderful beach here at Tokomaru Bay, my heart sings. Never mind there's not a lot of money in the jar, and my name won't appear on any rich-list.
I know I'm really a multi-millionaire...
Showing posts with label gisborne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gisborne. Show all posts
Friday, April 4, 2014
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
The Flying Tortoise Freedom Camping At Tolaga Bay...
My lifestyle of choice would have been to be married, living in a mortgage free home in a retirement village, having drinkies with others at five a clock every day prior to eating some unidentifiable greens, mashed potatoes and some four day old fresh fish.
Then ice cream and and jelly prior to falling to sleep in front of the soaps.
But no that sort of idyllic lifestyle wasn't the hand that the cards dealt to me.
Oh no, I got none of a kind in my hand.
My losing hand has me going around in a little house on wheels ridiculously called The Flying Whatever and visiting dreadfully horrible places like Tolaga Bay on New Zealand's East Cape.
I do what they call 'freedom camp' which means
I don't go to those nice motor camps.
Well I would, but they prefer white tupperware containers on wheels to my funny old Bedford and when I light the fire, well, the looks on their faces! And they get their inhalers out and shake them at me.
So here I am cast out of society, just like a gypsy, an itinerant with no fixed abode, catching fish, enduring boring beaches and occasionally meeting a like minded soul.
As you can imagine, hating every moment of it.
But that's the way the ball bounces, the cards shuffle, the fish flops, the sun sets...


Then ice cream and and jelly prior to falling to sleep in front of the soaps.
But no that sort of idyllic lifestyle wasn't the hand that the cards dealt to me.
Oh no, I got none of a kind in my hand.
My losing hand has me going around in a little house on wheels ridiculously called The Flying Whatever and visiting dreadfully horrible places like Tolaga Bay on New Zealand's East Cape.
I do what they call 'freedom camp' which means
I don't go to those nice motor camps.
Well I would, but they prefer white tupperware containers on wheels to my funny old Bedford and when I light the fire, well, the looks on their faces! And they get their inhalers out and shake them at me.
So here I am cast out of society, just like a gypsy, an itinerant with no fixed abode, catching fish, enduring boring beaches and occasionally meeting a like minded soul.
As you can imagine, hating every moment of it.
But that's the way the ball bounces, the cards shuffle, the fish flops, the sun sets...


Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)





